Snippets of Daily Life
by moimoi-chan
Summary: Just random glimpses into the Weiss boys' lives. Hints of AY. I like reviews.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own. Sigh.

A/N: I like reviews, comments, suggestions!

Part IX

Yohji's nose was assaulted long before his eyes were.

"Omi where the hell are you going?"

"To a birthday pa—"

Before Omi could finish speaking, he was grabbed by the hand and hauled bodily to the bathroom.

"Shower. Now."

"But Yohji-kun I'll be late," the boy whined.

"Good."

Yohji leaned back against the doorway, indicating that he was there to stay.

Omi knew better than to try and change the other blonde's mind when he was in that mood.

Omi closed the door on Yohji and proceeded to get undressed.

Hopefully a quick shower would satisfy the playboy, he had ten minutes before he absolutely had to leave otherwise he really would be late.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Omi opened the bathroom door and was pleased to discover that the hallway was Yohji free.

He just needed some clean underwear and he could –

Yohji had apparently used the time that he was in the shower to make himself comfortable in _his_ room.

Omi stalked up to the older assassin and shoved his feet off of his desk and then plucked the cigarette out from Yohji's mouth and ground it out on the window sill. He also flung open the window to air out his room.

"Geez Yohji-kun how many times have I told you not to a) let yourself into my room and b) smoke in my room?"

Omi didn't give Yohji the chance to reply, "Do you know how long it will take to get the smell out of my room now? And I just got it out from your last unexpected visit. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get dressed and in case you hadn't noticed I am only in my towel, the window's open and it's February, meaning it's cold."

"What are you planning to wear to the party?"

"Have you even listened to a word I said Yohji-kun? Get out so that I can get dressed!"

"Cigarettes. Smell. Window open. Now what are you wearing?"

Omi gave up. "The same thing I was just wearing, just different underwear which I am not currently wearing because someone won't leave the room."

Yohji clearly was not listening. "No, no, no that look is all wrong for you. God, who gave you those clothes? Ken?"

"As a matter of fact he did."

"You took fashion advice from Mr. I-wear-goggles-for-no-reason? Why on earth didn't you come to _me_?"

"Mr. I-bare-my-body-to-the-world? No thank you."

"Hmm. There's a girl you like who's going to be there, am I right?"

"What? How did you know?" Omi sputtered.

"What type of girl is she?"

"What?"

"Yohji-kun I just want to get dressed so that I can go to the party!"

"Is she sweet and shy? Or kind of forward? Is she a tomboy? No, that would be more Kenken's type. Hmm…" Yohji walked to Omi's cupboard and calmly flipped through it, all the while mumbling to himself.

Omi caught a few words as Yohji casually dismissed most of his wardrobe 'student, shy and sexy' among them. He wished the older assassin would just leave so that he could get dressed.

"Eureka! Omi this is perfect, here put this on." Yohji threw the clothes that he had found at Omi causing the boy to fumble and catch them, and nearly lose his hold on his towel.

"Yohji-kun, I already have clothes," the boy whined.

"What? These? They should be burnt, they smell like Ken." Omi wondered if that was such a bad thing.

"Yes Omi, if you want to attract this girl the last thing you want to do is look and smell like Ken. A jock. She's not the type that'd go for that type."

Since when could the taller assassin read minds?

"I can't read minds Omittchi. I can however, read expressions on people's faces," the older blonde teased.

"Now get dressed while I go and get something."

Omi stared at Yohji's back in disbelief as the man turned and walked out the door. Yohji had finally left him in privacy so that he could get dressed and now he was making it sound as if Omi was the one who was keeping him back.

Omi ran to the door and locked it praying that it would buy him enough time to get dressed and then hopefully, if he was very, very lucky, Yohji would still not be back yet and he could leave and Yohji would be none the wiser.

Omi was zipping up the pants that Yohji had given him to wear when the knock sounded on his door.

"Omittchi, you decent?"

Omi snarled at the door, and grabbed his shirt; hurriedly shoving his arms in his sleeves and fighting with the buttons. He was trying to be fully dressed before –

Too late.

Yohji entered, a large box in his arms and his lock-pick set on top.

"Hey Omi, I found what I wanted."

"Good for you."

Yohji ignored the sarcasm in Omi's voice and dropped the box on his bed, it was so heavy it only bounced a little, and Omi could hear the muffled clattering of glass.

Curious despite himself Omi sidled up to the box as Yohji opened it, and was not surprised to see several smaller boxes inside.

Yohji pulled out the top box and Omi could barely discern the words slutty and forward written in Yohji's deplorable scribble.

Yohji set that box on the bed and pulled out several more reading sporty, clean, sporty guys and intellectual.

Omi hadn't a clue what the hell was in those boxes.

Yohji eventually found what he was looking for and presented it to Omi; it was a box that read shy.

With a great deal of trepidation, Omi took the box from Yohji and opened it.

Peering inside Omi was pleasantly surprised that the box contained nothing more than four bottles of cologne.

Omi turned to the other assassin.

"Just pick a scent from that box, all those colognes have been tried and tested to see what types of girls or guys in some cases they attract. Any one in that box will work, I guarantee it."

Omi sniffed and rejected two of the four in the box before he found one that he liked. Omi positioned the bottle two inches away from himself and prepared to squirt.

"What are you doing?" Yohji cried, grabbing the bottle from his hand.

"But, but you told me –"

"It's for a shy girl, you have to be subtle. You can't just spray that scent on like if it was water. It'll overpower you and her, you have to tease and taunt, draw her in. Geez you are like a bull in a china shop, rampaging through the girl's affections."

Omi wondered what the hell Yohji was talking about.

"Here, let me do it."

Yohji artfully spritzed Omi with the contents of the bottle, he did it so lightly that Omi could barely tell that he was wearing cologne.

"Good, run along now."

Omi glanced at the time, and realised that he was already half an hour late.

"Don't run to the party Omi. You want to be fashionably late, it'll make an impression I promise and whatever you do don't apologise for being late. You are too cool for that. Get me?"

Omi nodded his head, but didn't really understand what Yohji was telling him. He'd take the other blonde's advice just this once and see how it turned out.

Omi walked to the door, leaving Yohji to repack the large box of colognes.

"Oh and Omi?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, do me a favour and don't tell Aya I still have this," Yohji waved his hand at the box, "He thinks I threw it away a while ago."

Omi chuckled. Aya was a bit possessive of the blonde assassin since they had gotten together and Yohji was not known for his steadfast relationships. He probably would be highly upset that Yohji still owned a box of colognes designed to attract others.

Depending on how this party went, would determine if Omi ratted Yohji out or not. Yohji had better not have screwed him or else Yohji would be screwed, or perhaps knowing Aya, not screwed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yohji got the box hidden in his secret hiding place, just as he heard the Porsche pull up.

Yohji wandered downstairs to greet his love.

"Ayan I've missed –"

"What is that smell?" Aya sniffed.

Shit, was Aya smelling the cologne that Yohji had sprayed on Omi?

"It smells like –"

"Aya, don't you want to go out for dinner?"

"—shy girl scent, isn't it?"

Aya's eyes were dark and stormy. They were in the kitchen. Kitchens had knives. Aya was close to the knife drawer. Backpedal, Kudoh.

"Honestly Aya it isn't what you think. Aya? Aya!"

"Shi-ne Yohji!"

Shit, Yohji did what every warm blooded man did when confronted with a gorgeous lover whose eyes were spitting fire and whose hands were clutching the biggest knife their kitchen had – he turned tail and ran.

Moral of the story: Nice guys finish last.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: I had thoughts of making this serious, but why bother

Part I - Photo

Yohji stood in the doorway trying to figure out what Aya was doing. Aya was sitting on the floor of his (Yohji's) room.

Yohji paused.

Aya was sitting on the floor of _his_ room. Aya. The same Aya who claimed that his floor was so contaminated that it should be blown up in a nuclear war and wait one hundred and fifty or so years (give or take fifty) before it could be claimed to be safe for habitation again.

Actually Yohji lied, Aya had never said any of those things, that would mean that Aya would speak a full sentence when a raised eyebrow could imply the same thing.

So Yohji stood in the doorway and stared at the sight of Aya sitting on his floor. Yohji wished he had a camera so that he could show Ken the proof, speaking (or rather thinking) of cameras and photographs what was Aya holding in his hand?

"Aya?" 

Aya looked up, still clutching the photo in his hand, but not saying anything

Yohji looked from Aya to the open bottom drawer of his dresser and then back to Aya, then back to the dresser, and then once more.

Yohji groaned he thought he knew what Aya had in his hand.

"Aya, give me the photo." Yohji spoke slowly enunciating each word clearly so that no confusion could occur.

Aya gripped the photo a little harder.

"Aya give me the photo now."

"Yohji," Aya's voice was soft, "May I have it?"

"Um, no." As hard as it was to deny Aya anything, he couldn't give the redheaded man this.

"Hn." While Yohji had been getting more adept at interpreting 'Ayish,' as Ken had dubbed Aya's own personal language, he had no idea what that particular 'hn' meant. God, he hoped it didn't mean what he thought it did.

Trouble.

Yohji watched Aya put the picture back where he had found it in the bottom drawer then stand up and make to leave the room.

Yohji stopped him by grabbing his forearm, "Aya, you're not mad are you?"

Aya smiled, "No."

Whoever had coined the phrase deadly beautiful must have known a clone of Aya. Aya smiling was truly a scary sight. Yohji would be in for a hell of a time now.

Aya waited until the moment was just perfect; if Yohji did not want to share well, Yohji would feel, especially after all that talk about relationships being a compromise and about giving and taking…

Dinner time, everyone was around the table, perfect.

"Hey Ken since you are going upstairs anyway could you get me my orange sweater? I left in Yohji's room." On the dresser, and it just happened to fall and slip into the partially open bottom drawer where Ken would just happen to find the picture.

Ken came back downstairs sans sweater, but with the picture from Yohji's dresser in his hand.

"Hey guys you have to see this!"

Ken waved the picture in front of Omi.

Omi promptly rolled over laughing, he was on the floor. Aya smirked and Ken could no longer contain his hilarity.

"Yohji," he panted , "tell me that's not you?"

Yohji snatched the picture from Kenken's hand, hoping against hope that it wasn't what he dreaded it would be. It was. He turned to glare at his lover, recognising the setup right away.

Aya smirked back. This was the first and only thing he had ever asked his blonde lover for and he hadn't been willing to fork it over, well too bad.

"You had glasses Yohji?" Omi laughed. "Big, fat, nerdy glasses?"

Even without the picture in his hand, Aya could see the glasses in his mind's eye. His Yotan had looked like a nerd in his youth.

"And," Omi couldn't finish the sentence he was laughing too hard.

Luckily Ken did it for him, "And headgear."

Yohji was openly glaring at Ken.

Omi tried to take advantage of getting his breath back, "And…and…and"

And failed.

Seeing that Omi really couldn't stop laughing, he would get his breath back only to lose it again, Aya finished his sentence for him. "You were chubby!"

Aya smirked.

Payback was complete.

Reviewers:

Evalita: thank you grin but I should warn that I am absolutely and completely random about updating. Forgive me chibi eyes

Anon: I'm glad you enjoyed!

Your wings are mine: Sorry to keep you hanging…I hope you aren't disappointed in this one.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ok I know that the Japanese don't celebrate Halloween like the Americans do, but I have artistic licence, right? Anyway please see: http://www. jref. com/ culture/japanesenationalholidays.shtml and   
http://en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Bon Festival for the real info on Halloween/ Halloween like holidays in Japan.

Special thanks to bews and deunan for providing that info! Please remove all spaces in the link if you actually want to see the sites

I should warn that this one is un-edited by my beta reader, will fix as soon as I get around to it…

In case you're curious neither Weiss Kreuz nor The Matrix belong to me

Part XI

Ken paused as the doorbell rang.

He was right by the door, he _should_ answer it, the kids on the other side would expect him to. On the other hand, Aya would kill him as it was nearly mission time.

But those kids, with their mournful faces and sad yet expectant eyes. He couldn't disappoint them, could he?

_And_ he was already dressed…

Ken opened the door, praying that his death at Aya's hands would be swift, and was greeted by four hellions. Or more specifically four boys dressed as demons from hell.

"What are you supposed to be?" sneered one of the boys, his face covered by dripping blood. The makeup artist who put it on him was talented indeed.

"I'm an assassin."

Halloween, a time when truth and lies merge easily.

"With that idiotic outfit, I think not," said a second boy.

"I mean what kind of assassin wears a bright orange sweater around his waist?" The third boy piped in.

"It's a jacket –"

"To help you _blend_ in, dufus?"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "Hey, aren't you supposed to say trick or treat?"

Geez these boys were hellions, all except the fourth who just stood there holding out his bag, waiting for candy to magically enter.

"What's that on your head?" The fourth boy finally spoke up.

Ken knew how to salvage the situation now, knew how to make himself look cooler. "They're night vision goggles."

"They look like cheap motorocycle goggles that yuppies wear."

Ken hated the fourth boy now with a vengeance. Stupid bratty boy, what the hell did he know?

"Oh my God, you're a yuppie motorcyclist."

Hate. Hate. Hate. Stupid kids. He coached brats like these why?

"Hey Ken, have you seen my – oops sorry, didn't see that we had company. Hi!" Omi bounced by.

"Hey, do you want us to take your little girl trick or treating with us?" The first boy asked.

"We wouldn't mind," leered the second.

Wait. How old were these kids? And _his_ little girl? They thought he was old enough to have kids!

The sound of heavy, methodical footfalls coming down the stairs knocked Ken out of his reverie. Aya. He had to get these kids out of here.

"Look, do you guys want candy or not?" Ken held the candy bowl in front of himself desperately. "Just take it." Go, go, go.

"Ken who's that?" Too late. Aya stood beside Ken, in all his glory – black trench coat, making his pale skin glow in the dim lighting of the house.

"And what the hell are you supposed to be?" Kid number one.

"That Matrix guy?" Kid number three.

"Nah, that's old now." Number one again.

"A vampire?" Number two.

Aya glared. "Your worst nightmare, brat."

"A vamp? Seriously? Don't you know you should at least have sharp, pointy teeth."

"You want sharp and pointy? I'll give you a sharp and pointy sw—"

Aya was cut off by two golden hands covering his mouth. Yohji was there.

'Help me. Rescue me.' Ken's eyes pleaded.

'—right through your guts,' Aya's eyes spat.

"Ayan, why don't you go inside and help Omi find his shoes. Kenken, give me the candy." Ken turned heel and fled. "Now gentlemen, how may I assist you?"

The first kid eyed Yohji up and down, "What are you a gigolo?"

"Well that depends."

"On what?"

"Do you have a sister over the age of eighteen?"

"That's sick and gross, dude. We're outta here."

"Don't you want any candy?"

"Hellooo, trick or treating's for kids. We're just doing this for fun."

As one, they turned and left.

Just as Yohji was closing the door, the fourth kid ran back and grabbed a handful of candy from the bowl in Yohji's hand.

Smack!

Yohji's head hit the door.

"What the hell was that for, Aya?"

Aya glared, but didn't say what was on his mind. "Mission," he barked and turned on the heel.

Hmm, right he wasn't supposed to mention that 'girls over eighteen line anymore.' Oops.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz. WK belongs to project Weiss and Takehito-san

Hey everyone this is bly's (bly-bly's ,sarblythe's, or just blythe's) birthday snippet! So thank her for this (good thing I decided on this one and not appeal huh bly? ;) )

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Part XII

Yohji hunched miserably into his coat. He was on a mission, it was unbearably cold and he had on unsexy, protective clothing. He felt off kilter: there was the weight of the cold, unfamiliar gun in his hand and no watch on his wrist.

Yohji glared at the gun; it was the source of all his problems. Kritiker wanted their assassins to be familiar with these unsophisticated tools, and so here he was, standing behind a heap of junk with nothing but the biting wind and Ken for company.

Ken would have been more effective company if Yohji could actually see him, or talk to him, but they had no comm links, so Yohji could only speculate as to the condition of his team-mate.

Yohji heard movement near to him; it was time to get his butt into gear. He had a target to take down and a gun to use to show that he was competent.

Smoothly, silently, Yohji drifted from behind one barrier to the next, circling slowly closer around the source of the noise. Finally he raised his gun, and waited for his target to come in to view. His fingers slowly pulled the trigger, and at the last second Yohji jerked the gun to the side as he fired.

Whirling at the noise, Ken automatically shot.

"Watch it, Ken!"

"Sorry."

Yohji watched as a dark shape broke from the shadows behind Ken. He opened his mouth to call a warning to his team-mate, whose guard was still down. As if in slow-motion Yohji watched the gunman fire, and Ken grunted with the pain before he slowly toppled over.

Yohji ignored the lone gunman, who was now raising his gun again and aiming at him, and ran instead to his fallen team-mate. He was surprised when there was no immediate gunshot ending his existence. It was strange for a killer to be so kind.

He looked up, straight into the barrel of the gun.

Wanting to see the face of his killer, Yohji looked even further up. His eyes widened.

The trigger slowly depressed.

"Traitor," he mouthed, eyes never leaving the other's violet eyes.

There was a deep dramatic pause.

And then two gunshots rang out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What the hell was that for, Omi? I'm on your team!" Aya slapped Omi upside the head.

"I was sick to death of all that melodrama. For heaven's sake, we were just playing paintball! But noooo, first it was you and Yohji-kun as partners, and Yohji-kun fell, so you 'rescued' him and died in the attempt. Then it was Ken-kun and Yohji-kun, and look how spectacularly that turned out! He was on the opposite team and still you hesitated in killing him. So, I took you both out. Bakas! In the end I was the last man standing. Victory!"

As one the three eldest assassins moved. Aya and Yohji grabbed the younger blonde by his arms and legs whilst Ken aimed the gun.

"You wouldn't."

Aya raised an eyebrow.

"But the game's over, guys." Omi whined.

Yohji snickered.

"Ken-kun, you wouldn't really, would yo – aaarrggh!"


End file.
